


Innocence

by The_Audacity



Category: Bleach
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-17 15:00:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 15,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29594532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Audacity/pseuds/The_Audacity
Summary: Mysterious circumstances cause Ishida to revert to his nine year old self and Ichigo has to look out for the poor kid until Urahara finds a cure. What he learns about his friend in the process could change everything.
Relationships: Ishida Uryuu & Kurosaki Ichigo
Kudos: 4





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> There’s a Katekyo Hitman Reborn reference at the beginning. Blink and you’ll miss it. Also, there’s no underage action going on in this story, in case anyone was worried.
> 
> Theme song: “Your Taste is My Attention” by Lydia

“How…the hell…did this happen?”

Ichigo was standing in the middle of Urahara Shouten staring at a kid who looked to be about eight or nine years old. He was very confused. The kid seemed confused, too. They were all confused because the little boy peeking out at him from behind one of Urahara’s ‘candy’ shelves had sleek black hair framing both sides of a pale face, which featured vivid blue eyes behind silver-rimmed glasses.

“I’m not quite sure myself,” the shopkeeper replied, scratching his chin in bemusement. “When we found him, he said something about pink smoke and another child wearing cow-print pajamas.”

“He had a really big gun,” the boy helpfully supplied, then ducked out of sight as soon as he noticed Ichigo watching him.

“A gun? Some kinda reishi-powered weapon, maybe?”

Urahara sighed. “Who knows? I’m just glad Tessai noticed the stark variance in his reiatsu and went to check in.”

“Yeah…” Frowning pensively, Ichigo asked, “It’s temporary, right?”

“It should be.”

“‘Should be’ isn’t a _yes_. Is he gonna be all right or not?”

“Don’t worry, Kurosaki-san,” he sanguinely assured. “We’ll figure it out one way or another. Until then, do you mind looking after him? I’m happy to keep him here but I figured since he’s your roommate—”

“Of course I’ll take him.” Hesitating for a moment, Ichigo glanced uncertainly at the shy roommate in question. “Wait, does he even recognize me?”

“Why don’t you ask him?”

Cautiously approaching the boy, he held up his hands to show he meant no harm and asked, “Hey, do you, uh…know who I am?”

He thought about it for a second and slowly shook his head. Kon’s infamous lion plushie was held tightly in his arms, squeezed close to his slender body in obvious anxiety. Ichigo didn’t think Kon was in it. Otherwise he would’ve been squawking indignantly at being snuggled like a common teddy bear. Shooting a quizzical glance over his shoulder, he asked with his expression and Urahara interpreted it flawlessly.

“The instant he saw the Quincy cross on the back of its head, he knew it was his.”

It was voiced with a warmth of affection Ichigo had only ever heard him use when speaking about Ururu or Jinta. Had the kooky scientist already grown attached to the boy?

“Is…is it someone else’s?”

“You can keep it.”

It was technically Ichigo’s so he could give it away if he wanted. Besides, it was really more like lending than giving, all things considered.

“Okay,” he mumbled, ducking his head to hide half of his face behind the lion’s mane. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Ichigo smiled, took a knee, and held out a hand to introduce himself. “I’m Kurosaki Ichigo.”

A tiny hand warily reached out to grasp his. The boy blushed a bit as he quietly stammered, “U-Uryuu. I’m I-Ishida Uryuu.”

He gave a bow for good measure and timidly met his gaze. Ichigo was having trouble associating this Ishida with the Ishida he was used to. _That_ Ishida was not timid or polite—to him, at least—and he hadn’t thanked Ichigo for anything in years. _That_ Ishida had yelled at him just this morning over leaving dirty dishes in the sink overnight before heading off to campus for his first lecture of the day. Meanwhile, _this_ Ishida was blinking curiously at him with his giant eyes and his long black lashes, looking like one of those boys people mistook for girls until they spoke. Then again, Ishida had always been too pretty for his own good.

_This_ Ishida pushed his glasses up the narrow bridge of his nose with the exact same gesture _that_ Ishida always used, and suddenly every last one of Ichigo’s doubts disappeared.

“Would it be okay if you stayed with me for a while?”

“What about my parents?”

Parents, plural. Ichigo cringed and averted his gaze. Apparently, this Ishida didn’t just appear younger, he actually _was_ a younger version of Ishida. One who didn’t remember that his mother was dead and he’d been estranged from his father for almost six years. Maybe he wasn’t even aware that his grandfather was gone, either. Ichigo wasn’t going to be the one to break his little heart if he could help it.

Luckily, Urahara had his back. “They’re out of town right now, Uryuu-kun, but we’ll let you know as soon as they get back. Kurosaki-san will take great care of you until then. He’s a very trustworthy and responsible fellow. You couldn’t ask for a better babysitter!”

How he’d managed to say all that with a cheerful lilt and a straight face, Ichigo would never understand. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes at Urahara’s theatrics and focused on Ishida instead. Blind faith in a person he’d only just met was probably asking too much. Plus, Ichigo wasn’t under the impression that his appearance put anyone at ease. He still dressed like a miscreant more often than not and he’d gotten his ears pierced several months ago to celebrate the completion of his freshman year. Although, he dimly recalled Ishida idly remarking that he had ‘kind eyes’ one night when they’d all gone out together after a round of rigorous exams…Even so, Ichigo wasn’t about to force some scared, confused kid to spend time at his apartment against his will.

“You can stay with Urahara-san if you’re more comfortable here. It’s up to you.”

Little Ishida swallowed audibly and glanced between the two of them indecisively. He hugged the lion closer to his chest as the seconds ticked past. Ichigo started to wonder if the black button eyes would pop off from the pressure.

Finally, Ishida took a deep breath and declared, “I want to stay with you.”

He was looking straight at Ichigo when he said it, which came as a mild shock. Maybe there was still a piece of _that_ Ishida in there, telling him he could always rely on Ichigo in a tough situation. Maybe Ishida’s latent spiritual instincts hinted he’d be safer with a fellow Quincy. Maybe Ichigo really did have kind eyes. Or maybe he just didn’t like Urahara. Whatever the reason, Ishida had made his choice and seemed fairly confident it was the right one.

“Uh, right. Okay. So, I guess…let’s go?”

“Wait a moment, Kurosaki-san.”

Urahara was indulging one of his rare serious expressions, which told Ichigo this was important. He stood and followed the man a short ways into the shop’s back rooms so they wouldn’t be overheard by the subject of their discussion.

“What is it?”

“I assume you’ve realized that, even for a child, Uryuu-kun has high reiryoku,” he gravely began, encouraging Ichigo to pay rapt attention. “At this age, he is already able to use his spirit weapon with some proficiency.”

“Doesn’t surprise me. Ishida’s always been an over-achiever.”

“Then I’m sure you also understand that his reiatsu broadcasts well above that of a normal human soul, meaning Hollow may target him from time to time.” He hadn’t thought of it that way but it made sense. Urahara read the revelation on his features and continued, “I would advise you to keep a close eye on him whenever possible. If you can keep him nearby, even better. Next to your bonfire, his candle flame won’t even register on a Hollow’s radar.”

“Got it. Anything else?”

“I would also avoid telling him too much about his future. We don’t know whether this is the real Ishida-san visiting from the past or something else altogether. If it is the real Ishida-san, we must assume he will return to his own time eventually and…”

Urahara didn’t need to finish that sentence. If someone had told nine year old Ichigo how his life would turn out—all the fighting and the pain and the loss—then he would have developed a very bleak outlook indeed. Reflecting on his struggles in hindsight, he didn’t regret having lived through them. But knowing what horrors were on the horizon with absolutely no power to change anything would’ve been a hell of a lot to handle at that tender age.

“Yeah, I see what you mean. I’ll be careful. Thanks for the advice, Urahara-san.” A benevolent smile was the wordless response. Ichigo went back into the shop proper and addressed little Ishida waiting patiently where he had been left. “Ready to go?”

A nod confirmed it and off they went.

During the walk across town, Ichigo couldn’t help stealing glances of the boy and comparing him to the older version. His lenses were round instead of rectangular, and his hair was parted in the symmetrical style Ishida hadn’t favored since their second year of high school. His facial features were softer, more open. There was a vulnerability to him that had less to do with his youth than a total lack of the guardedness that teenage-Ishida preferred.

The longer he studied this Ishida, the harder it was to think of him as ‘Ishida’ at all. He was a kid, anyway. Wouldn’t it be more appropriate to call him ‘Uryuu’? It was sort of strange to refer to someone half his age by their family name. And Ishida would’ve been majorly pissed if he knew Ichigo was using his given name so freely. The thought had him smirking in blatant mischief.

As though sensing his line of thought, the boy haltingly called, “Kurosaki…-san?”

“You can call me Ichigo.” Which is probably what he would’ve said when they’d first met, if Ishida hadn’t followed up his own introduction with ‘I hate you’. “What’s up?”

“Why did Urahara-san say I was your roommate?”

Resisting the urge to sigh, he figured he should’ve seen this coming earlier and asked the shopkeeper what he’d already told the kid. Now Ichigo had no choice but to flail around with some vague explanation that wouldn’t scare the crap out of his new ward.

“Um, well,” he began, scratching his head as he stalled for time. “Something weird happened this morning that kinda brought you to the future for a little bit. But don’t worry! We’re gonna get you back to your time as soon as we can.”

“Uh-huh,” Uryuu said, nodding to indicate he’d already worked that much out for himself.

Back to his original question: “You and I became friends a while back.”

“Good friends?”

Ichigo smiled reassuringly and agreed, “Really good friends.”

“That’s why we live together?”

“Yep. And ‘cause we go to the same university, so it’s more convenient to split the rent and have our own place than tough it out in the crowded dorms.” Uryuu took a breath for a follow-up question but Ichigo quickly added, “Hey, I know you’re curious but try not to ask too much about future-you, okay? It’s no fun knowing the ending before you read the book, right?”

He looked a little crestfallen to hear that but he gave a shallow nod of acknowledgment and mumbled, “I guess so.”

The brat was already tugging on Ichigo’s heart strings and he didn’t even realize it!

In an effort to raise Uryuu’s spirits, he asked, “Got any special requests for dinner? We’ll pick something up on the way; I’m pretty sure we’re running low on groceries.” Which was Ichigo’s fault since he forgot to go shopping last weekend. He’d gotten a tongue-lashing from Ishida about that, too.

“Pizza?” Whoa, what? Ichigo almost blurted ‘since when do you eat junk food?’ until Uryuu morosely shared, “Father never lets me have pizza.”

Ah, that made perfect sense. There was bound to be a whole list of things Ishida Ryuuken wouldn’t let his son enjoy. Poor kid would still be stuck with the overbearing jerk of a dad for years, too. Ichigo felt for him.

“Pizza it is. Wanna grab some ice cream while we’re at it?”

“Can we get green tea flavor?”

“Totally.”

Uryuu turned his big bright eyes up at him and bashfully smiled. “Thank you, Ichigo nii-san!”

He stumbled over his own feet in surprise because picturing Ishida calling him that was downright hilarious, but hearing Uryuu do it was actually sort of cute.

“Y-yeah, no problem.”

It felt so wrong digging through his roommate’s stuff without permission but it had to be done. If there was anything in Ishida’s room that could hint at past events Uryuu had yet to live through, they needed to be removed and hidden before any damage was done. As far as Ichigo knew, his friend didn’t keep a journal or anything like that unless it was on his hard drive. Ishida wasn’t the sentimental type to collect mementos from Soul Society or Hueco Mundo, either, so chances were Ichigo’s invasion of his personal property was utterly unnecessary. Better safe than sorry, though.

He paused and looked up when he heard the sound of running water stop in the bathroom. The door opened a few seconds later. Ichigo didn’t have time to slip past, so the best he could do was pretend he wasn’t doing anything wrong. Yes, it was completely normal for him to be messing around in Ishida’s room for no apparent reason. He was just tidying up a bit because he was bored.

Rolling his eyes at himself, Ichigo shut the drawer he’d been rifling through and turned to listen as Uryuu asked, “Is it okay if I borrow some of future-me’s clothes?”

“Yeah, of course.” Though he wasn’t sure what could actually fit the kid; Ishida had ended up growing a lot taller than his nine-year old self. Picking a plain white t-shirt from his dresser, Ichigo handed it over as he invited, “Here, try this.”

He went into the closet to search for anything else remotely viable. When he emerged empty handed, he took one look at the baggy shirt almost hanging down to Uryuu’s knees and told him, “We’ll get you some new clothes tomorrow morning.”

“That’s all right.” He draped the damp towel over the back of his desk chair as he proudly announced, “I know how to sew.”

Already? Ichigo raised an eyebrow, impressed that the kid was so confident in his tailoring abilities at such a tender age.

“Go for it. I think Ishida—er, I mean you keep your sewing kit in a box under the bed.”

It was like cognitive dissonance, having to constantly remind himself that the guy he’d known for so long was once this sweet, courteous child who didn’t yell at him for every stupid screw-up or say things like ‘idiot Shinigami’ all the time. Not yet, anyway. He was beginning to wonder when Ishida’s gracious temperament had changed, and he had a good idea what the cause must’ve been. But Ichigo wasn’t about to bring up his potentially dead grandfather and make a difficult day even worse.

Instead of poking a very sad bear, he went to his room and grabbed his laptop to work on the essay he’d been procrastinating on for a couple of days. He barely had time to plop onto his bed and open the laptop’s lid before Uryuu came to hover in the doorway holding the large plastic box of sewing supplies. A short pile of clothes was heaped on top, waiting to be fitted to a much smaller stature.

“Can I sit with you?” he nervously requested. “I promise I’ll be quiet.”

“Sure,” Ichigo allowed without hesitation, figuring Uryuu probably felt unsettled by being alone in a foreign environment. “You don’t have to be quiet, though. I’m just trying to finish this boring paper since it’s due Friday.”

He moved to sit beside Ichigo, propped against the wall, and leaned in to scan the glowing screen. “What does ‘semi-porous membrane’ mean?” Uryuu asked, carefully sounding out the unfamiliar words.

“Wow.” Ichigo laughed. “Never thought the day would come that I could teach _you_ something.”

“Is future-me really smart?”

“You’re already really smart,” he pointed out. “Future-you is a total genius. You’d be a semester or two ahead of me if you’d gone to an elite high school instead of the second-rate one where we met.”

Ishida had told him once that he didn’t regret it, though. Teaming up with Ichigo and the others was the only reason he’d changed his mind about never pursuing a career in medicine after witnessing his own mother’s cadaver being dissected as part of a doctor’s duty.

The sincere praise to his intelligence seemed to make Uryuu happy, inspiring another of those delighted smiles. “Maybe I can become a surgeon like my father and help save people’s lives!”

“That’s the plan.” Thinking back to a conversation he’d had with Ishida the summer after they graduated from Karakura High, he said, “I made you swear you wouldn’t let me flunk out of med school or my dad would make you work at Kurosaki Clinic instead.”

“You’re going to be a doctor, too?”

Ichigo shrugged and teased, “Only if you keep my dumb ass on track.”

“I will,” Uryuu asserted with a meaningful touch to the silver cross at his wrist. “On my pride as a Quincy.”

Apparently, there were some things about Ishida that would never change no matter how much time had passed.

Giggling at Ichigo’s stunned expression, he opened the kit and started deftly hemming a pair of pants. It was tempting to watch Uryuu work wonders with those tiny hands, but he really did need to wrap up his essay.

Studying with Ishida was so second-nature by then that he was startled to find not him, but young Uryuu on the bed beside him nearly two hours later. Engrossed in his task, the time had passed quickly but Ichigo wasn’t expecting to see the chibi version of his roommate passed out on the mattress with a shirt sleeve held loosely in one hand and a bobbin of matching thread in the other.

“Uryuu?”

There was no response. Ichigo didn’t have it in him to shake a tired kid awake just so he could have his bed back. He gathered up Uryuu’s project materials to set on the floor, then gently slipped his glasses off and set them on the side table. Lastly, Ichigo carefully shifted the blanket out from under to drape over him instead.

Oddly enough, it wasn’t the first time he had taken care of Ishida this way. Finals week of freshman year, they had unsuccessfully tried to pull two all-nighters in a row for extra study time. They were in the living room that time and Ichigo had fetched Ishida’s pillow and blanket to make his zonked-out friend a little more comfortable on the couch. They’d never really talked about it afterward, but Ichigo knew his considerate actions hadn’t gone unappreciated when Ishida randomly made one of Ichigo’s favorite meals for dinner the very next night.

He took a deep breath as he stared at Uryuu’s sleeping face, wondering if he should spare the boy some pain by warning him about the handful of horrific events that would steadily replace his innocence with anger and regret. There was nothing anyone could do for his mom—or Ichigo’s, for that matter—but maybe Uryuu could keep his grandfather from getting mauled by a rogue pack of Hollow. Maybe he could tell Uryuu not to put on the Sanrei Glove that would inevitably result in the loss of his powers. Maybe Ichigo could prevent him from being attacked by Tsukishima when the Fullbringers rolled into town.

Or maybe he would tell Uryuu something that wound up getting him killed.

Scrubbing at his hair, Ichigo sighed harshly and walked out of the room, flipping off the light as he went. He had never considered how many shitty moments in their lives were directly linked to having supernatural powers. Shinigami or Quincy, either way they were guaranteed to get fucked over by fate. Wouldn’t everything be so much easier if they were just average, everyday people who couldn’t see ghosts or shoot energy arrows or kill monsters with soul swords?

Then again, Ichigo’s parents never would have met if they were normal. He and Ishida wouldn’t have become rivals, then friends. None of the key elements that had shaped their personalities into the warriors they were destined to be would have happened. If he thought about it that way, all the pain and heartbreak almost seemed like fair trade. After all, given the choice of avoiding his most agonizing events if it meant never forming bonds with his closest friends, Ichigo knew he’d always choose to do it all over again. And then some.

As he padded down the hall and crawled into the only other bed, he realized he was already kind of starting to miss Ishida.

The next morning Ichigo woke up feeling like he had a hangover—not that he really knew what it felt like. If the prospect of attempting underage drinking ever crossed his mind, Ishida would probably pick right up on it and bitch him out for still being a teen delinquent even though they were both less than a year from twenty. It didn’t help that he had been there when Ichigo promised to let Keigo and Mizuiro get him drunk on his birthday.

Sitting up and rubbing his face, he blinked dazedly around a room that wasn’t his. Yesterday’s debacle came ruthlessly rushing back. He groaned because the fact that he hadn’t woken up to Ishida berating him for crashing in his bed rather than settling for the couch meant Uryuu was still there instead. Ichigo would have to take him along to campus and maybe his part-time job after. In the meantime, all he could do was wait impatiently and hope Urahara found a way to reverse the switch sooner than later.

“Caffeine,” he grumbled and got up to plod into the kitchen.

Ichigo set the coffee to percolate and refilled the rice cooker before slinging some eggs into a pan. Omelettes and rice wasn’t the fanciest dish he knew how to make but it’d get the job done. He set out two plates on the counter and headed down the hall.

Calling his name with a light knock, he went in when he heard Uryuu’s voice through the door. The boy was sitting at the desk in front of Ishida’s open laptop, the screen filled with lines of simple text.

He turned to greet Ichigo, “Good morning.”

“Mornin’. Wait, how did you log on?”

“The password is my sensei’s birthday.”

“Of course it is.” Ishida should’ve known better than to use such an obvious password but it’s not like he had super-sensitive information to protect or anything. Leaning down to skim the kanji, Ichigo asked, “What’re you reading?”

“I think it’s future-me’s diary or something. He talks about you a lot.”

“He does?” Then sense smacked him upside the head and he reached out to snap the lid shut. “Hey, you can’t read that!”

Pouting in confusion and disappointment, Uryuu challenged, “Why not?”

“Because it’s…” No way Ichigo could explain without making the kid more curious. “You just can’t, okay?”

“That’s not fair.” A hint of righteous annoyance had him eerily resembling Ishida for a minute. “It’s my diary, isn’t it?”

“It _will be_ in about ten years,” he argued, herding Uryuu out of the chair toward the door. “This is for your own good, trust me.”

“But—”

“Hurry up and eat your breakfast, will you? I don’t wanna be late for class.”

That got his attention. He quit sulking and stared at Ichigo with awe and eagerness. “I’m going to school with you?”

“Yep. If you’re good, I’ll even give you a tour of the university. Sound fair?” Uryuu nodded enthusiastically as a giddy smile spread. Ichigo snorted. Once a nerd always a nerd. “Then go eat already.”

He watched the little munchkin dart down the hall toward the kitchen but hesitated to follow. The compulsion to snoop around Ishida’s unguarded journal was strong. Ichigo glanced at the laptop and bit his lip indecisively. It had never occurred to him before but hearing that his name was mentioned frequently made it really tempting to find out why. Probably just a slew of complaints, right? Stupid Kurosaki this, forgetful Kurosaki that. Except Uryuu wasn’t acting like he’d been reading all about Ichigo’s numerous shortcomings.

Heaving a resigned sigh, he dropped into the chair and raised the laptop’s lid. A passage toward the bottom of the page immediately caught his eye:

_Living with Kurosaki is more difficult than I had anticipated. He’s not nearly as infuriating a roommate as I’d assumed, which hasn’t made my resolutions any easier to sustain. Every day I worry I’ll slip and say or do something foolish. It’s exhausting. The worst part is I knew from the beginning this arrangement was a terrible idea, but I can never seem to tell him ‘no’ when he asks seriously. How could I bear to let him down when he has done so much for me?_

_Whaaat_? Ichigo checked the date logged and realized it was written about a month after they had first moved in together. So, Ishida had been secretly feeling this way around him the whole time? Talk about suffering in silence! Yet, Ichigo didn’t understand why his being a decent roommate was somehow harder for Ishida to deal with than if he was loud and messy. What ‘resolutions’ was he referencing? And since when did the snarky archer believe Ichigo had ever done him any favors? He sure as hell didn’t show it!

Scrolling down, he started to read more but a sudden voice made him jump and whirl around.

“You’re such a meanie, Ichigo nii-san,” whined Uryuu, complete with crossed arms and creased brow. “Why do you get to read future-me’s diary but I don’t?”

“Uh…” Shit, the indignant little Quincy was right. “Sorry. I won’t do it again.” Probably.

He shut the laptop down completely and went to eat his own breakfast while Uryuu got dressed to go out. The modified clothing fit him well, all things considered. At least, Ichigo didn’t think anyone would notice they weren’t originally kids’ clothes unless they looked really closely. Their classmates would definitely notice Ishida’s mini-me had taken his place, though. Passing Uryuu off as his roomie’s younger brother was their best bet.

How hard could it be?

“What’s that over there?”

“That’s the art building. I’ve never been in there but a couple of friends who major in art say it’s kinda cool inside.”

“And what’s that one?”

“Engineering, I think. Haven’t gone in that one, either.”

The tour was coming to an end and they were in a part of campus he wasn’t very familiar with but Uryuu didn’t seem to care. His energy hadn’t waned all day. If anything, he seemed to have had a ball following Ichigo from class to class, then lunch and a lab. At one point Uryuu had even asked to borrow a notebook and pencil so he could take notes! Seriously, he was going to tease the hell out Ishida when he got back.

“I can’t wait to grow up so I can study here with you, Ichigo nii-san!”

He flinched at the fresh memory of Uryuu calling him that in front of his lab mates. They had been very confused by the affectionate moniker in addition to Ishida’s conspicuous absence. Luckily, no one had accused Ichigo of kidnapping his roommate’s kid brother, so that was a plus. At least none of his professors had kicked him out for bringing a child to their lectures.

“Yeah, only a decade to go.”

Shooting him a petulant look, Uryuu complained, “I’m not even a decade old yet.”

“Heh. You got me there.” Ichigo glanced around the courtyard they were crossing and said, “I think we’ve seen everything by now. Ready to head home?”

The boy nodded to confirm he was satisfied with the tour and off they went.

Their trip back to the apartment was uneventful, right up until the sun started to set. Streetlamps flickered on and foot traffic grew sparse. Night brought the quiet and a cold wind. He hadn’t thought to grab a sweater or something for Uryuu’s tiny frame and a pang of remorse hit him to see the kid shivering a bit. They were almost home, though, and Ichigo would make sure he got into a warm bath right away.

His protective musings surprised him only slightly. Growing up with two little sisters had made him a decent enough caretaker, he supposed. The surprising part was just the whole ‘this is _Ishida_ ’ thing again. Except it wasn’t really and that was tough to wrap his brain around. It’s not like he could say they were separate people and move on because they weren’t that, either. Uryuu was Ishida and vice versa. They had some differences and a bunch of similarities that made it impossible to categorize them as ‘A’ and ‘B’ or anything simplistic like that.

Embroiled in his inner debate, Ichigo jolted to feel the boy suddenly take firm hold of his hand. There was a worried frown on his small face as his eyes flitted here and there into the gloom of blind corners and dim alleyways. Maybe Uryuu wasn’t just shivering from the cold, but from fear as well. He was in an unknown timeline with an unknown guardian traipsing through an unknown neighborhood after dark. Not only that, but he was part of a minority of unfortunate children fully aware that monsters were very much real. Of course he was scared!

When a dog abruptly barked from inside a fence right beside them, he gasped and bumped into Ichigo.

“S-sorry,” apologized Uryuu with a sheepish look.

He was trembling harder after the fright and Ichigo just wanted to hug him until he felt safe again.

Then he shook that crazy notion out of his head and said, “No, I’m sorry, Uryuu. We’ll be home before dark tomorrow, I promise.”

Straightening and tugging his hand from Ichigo’s, he bluffed, “I-it’s not like I’m scared or anything. I can protect myself. Sensei taught me how.”

“I know he did. You’re one of the best fighters I’ve ever met.”

Eyes flaring and swiveling to meet his, Uryuu dubiously asked, “I am?”

“Oh, yeah.” Ichigo leaned down to conspiratorially mutter, “Don’t tell future-you I said this, but sometimes I envy all the cool stuff you can do that I can’t.”

“ _Really_?” A cautious smile emerged. “Do we fight a lot of Hollow together?”

An alarm pinged in his brain, reminding him that Uryuu wasn’t meant to know a single damn thing about how many and what types of Hollow—and Shinigami, and other Quincy, and something called a Fullbringer that Ichigo still didn’t really understand—Uryuu would eventually grow up to battle. He had to be more careful about what he let slip in their conversations.

“It’s a secret,” he said, aiming for playful. Uryuu made that cute pouty expression he probably thought looked much more menacing than it possibly could. Ichigo reached down to take hold of his hand as he distracted, “Being great at getting rid of Hollow is one thing, but Ginrei Kojaku can’t protect you from everything. It’s all right to be scared once in a while.”

Although he didn’t seem thrilled to hear that, Uryuu didn’t yank his hand free a second time. Ichigo tried not to focus on how odd it felt to hold _anyone’s_ hand, never mind his friend’s adolescent counterpart. _Guess we’re doing this now_ , he thought with a short sigh. Ishida wouldn’t hesitate to murder him if he ever found out.

Or maybe not. Brown eyes narrowed shrewdly as Ichigo considered that perplexing journal entry. Good or bad, Ishida was hiding something from him and the more time he spent with Uryuu, the more he wanted to figure out what.

The next day Ichigo only had two classes but his dumb boss wouldn’t let him call in again, so he had no choice but to bring Uryuu with him to Unagiya’s lame shop. Why he still worked there when the jobs she took almost always led to trouble he’d never know, but at least she put up with his wacky schedule most of the time. Just not that day.

“Who is this?” she asked as soon as she spotted Uryuu trailing in after him.

“My roommate’s brother.”

Arching an eyebrow suspiciously, Unagiya deadpanned, “You mean his clone?”

Right. Ichigo had forgotten she’d met Ishida once. “I promised I’d watch him for a while.”

“Hi, sweetie,” she bent down to greet Uryuu with the same saccharine cadence she used on her son. “What’s your name?”

“U-um…I…” Wringing his hands around the strap of a bag he’d brought along, he tossed Ichigo an uncertain glance. If he gave his real name, Unagiya would recognize it and become even more convinced something weird was going on. Smart kid.

“He’s shy,” Ichigo said to spare the boy a panic attack. “Is it cool if he sits on the couch and reads?”

She glared at him before smiling at Uryuu. “Wouldn’t you rather meet another boy around your age? My son Kaoru has a Playstation with lots of really fun games!”

Rather than share her enthusiasm for the prospect of a new friend, he resembled a distraught kitten caught between a hungry wolf and a rushing river. He scooted behind Ichigo, out of her direct line of sight.

“I just told you he’s shy, didn’t I? Leave him alone already.”

“Oh, give it a rest, Kurosaki. He’ll be bored out of his mind if he has to read for three or four hours.”

“I like reading,” Uryuu quietly asserted even as he inched further away.

“I know you do, honey, but Kurosaki and I have to talk about yucky grown-up stuff that could give little boys bad dreams.” Unagiya paused to await his response but none was given. Sighing, she tried one last time. “Are you sure you don’t want to play video games instead?”

Uryuu’s fingers curled into the hem of Ichigo’s shirt as he said, “I want to stay with Ichigo nii-san.”

There was a subtle warble in Uryuu’s voice that had him automatically reaching back to soothingly pet dark hair.

Unhappy but understanding, Unagiya shrugged and relented, “Then I guess you’ll have to help me tail my client’s cheating wife some other day, Kurosaki. Go home.”

“You sure? I could—”

“Just call me when you’re done babysitting.”

“Got it.” Letting his palm rest atop Uryuu’s head, he asked, “Wanna stop by the park on the way? There should be some butterflies out this time of year.”

Since he couldn’t nod without displacing Ichigo’s hand, he verbally answered, “Yes.”

“Sorry,” Ichigo told his boss.

“Go on.” She shooed them off with a gesture. To Uryuu, she said, “It was nice to meet you.”

“Y-you, too, Unagiya onee-san.”

“Nee-san?” Beaming at the unintentional compliment, she gushed, “What a sweet kid! You’d better take good care of him, Kurosaki.”

“Yeah, yeah.” They left Unagiya Shop and headed toward the park two blocks over. Uryuu still hadn’t said a word by the time they’d almost gotten there and Ichigo was starting to worry. “You okay?”

“Mn.” His eyes were aimed at the sidewalk. It took him a moment to explain, “When you patted my head it reminded me of Sensei.”

Shit. Was he already dead? Had it happened recently? Was Uryuu going to burst into tears any second? Ichigo didn’t think he knew how to handle that sort of thing, especially because Ishida blamed Shinigami for the loss of his grandfather…and Ichigo still hadn’t mentioned to Uryuu that he was one. More or less.

All Ichigo could think to say was, “Sorry.”

Shaking his head, Uryuu told him, “It made me happy. But also sad because I miss him. It’s been so long since Father let me visit.”

_Oh, thank god he’s not dead yet_ , Ichigo inwardly rejoiced. “Why won’t he let you visit?”

“He says I should stop spending so much time learning from Sensei since I have no talent as a Quincy.”

Well, that was just about the dumbest thing anyone could’ve said about Ishida, given how he had mastered every single Quincy technique by the age of seventeen, and even invented a few of his own. The part about him being brutally blunt didn’t surprise Ichigo but wasn’t Ishida’s dad supposed to be clever? Why couldn’t he accurately assess his own son’s outstanding aptitude?

“You never told me that,” he murmured at length. Uryuu was still studying the ground like he was waiting for it to crack open and swallow him down. “Hey, you know what? I bet he only said that to protect you. Hollow-hunting is a pretty dangerous hobby any parent would want to keep their kid away from.”

Whether or not it was true, Ichigo hoped it would cheer him up. It didn’t.

“Father doesn’t want to protect me. All he cares about is money.”

Stopping Uryuu with a gentle grip on his shoulder, Ichigo knelt before the boy to look at him directly as he said, “Your dad cares about you. He might suck at showing it but I know he cares ‘cause he helped you out in a really important way a few years ago when you needed him most. Do you think he’d waste his time helping someone he didn’t give a crap about?”

“I guess not but…”

Ichigo lifted his other hand to hold both of Uryuu’s shoulders as he firmly told him, “It doesn’t matter what your dad says. You love being a Quincy, don’t you?”

“Of course.”

“Yeah. It’s _who you are_ and you’re great at it.” Ichigo smiled to see the boy blush lightly under the praise. “So, don’t believe anyone who says you’re not good enough and don’t let your dad decide what should be important to you. Okay?”

Fiddling with his glasses, Uryuu diffidently echoed, “Okay.”

“And spend as much time with your sensei as you can.” Here Ichigo began to let emotion seep into the words he shouldn’t have been speaking at all. “Your mom, too. Show them how much you love them every day, Uryuu, and know that they love you more than _anything_.”

“O-okay.” He stared into earnest brown eyes gone glossy with sorrow for the tragedies awaiting such a sensitive, compassionate child. “Are you all right, Ichigo nii-san?”

“Yeah,” he assured with a weak laugh, releasing his hold on Uryuu to rub at his own face. “Sorry I got so serious all of a sudden.” Ichigo straightened and took a deep breath as he pressed the mental ‘reset’ button. “Anyway, weren’t we supposed to be keeping an eye out for butterflies? I think I saw one over by those flowers; let’s go see.”

The shift in mood worked that time. Uryuu followed him over to a cluster of blooming flora and giggled when he found a blue butterfly with wings close to the same hue as his eyes. He excitedly told Ichigo what its species was called and which flowers it preferred. Figured Ishida had been a budding naturalist even at that age. The reasons he had always liked to train out by the river weren’t just due to it being spacious and private, but because he enjoyed nature. He’d even persuaded Ichigo to go on a couple of hikes with him last summer. It had been hot and tiring and they’d even gotten lost once but he didn’t mind so much when he saw how Ishida geeked out over every little thing, just like Uryuu was doing.

“Look, Ichigo nii-san, a four-leaf clover,” he announced, bounding over to show him. “It’s a genetic freak like us!”

Bursting into startled laughter, he watched Uryuu grin at his own joke and Ichigo’s reaction.

Then he thought about it and wondered if Urahara had told Uryuu he was part Quincy. Yesterday, he’d assumed Ichigo had powers when he asked whether they fought Hollow together. He felt a tad guilty for keeping his heritage hidden but he wasn’t sure what misconceptions Uryuu might’ve already had about Shinigami from listening to his grandfather’s stories. Although Ichigo didn’t think it would’ve been a huge deal if Uryuu knew the full truth, it was probably safer to avoid the subject entirely. Urahara wasn’t dumb enough to spill the beans without at least giving Ichigo a heads-up, right?

Speaking of Urahara, he still hadn’t called to say a cure was in the works. Ichigo was already beginning to get worried even though it had only been two days. What if Ishida got stuck like this? Would he have to go live with his dad again and start the past ten years all over? Ichigo really wasn’t fond of the idea that the Ishida he knew could disappear so easily. Nothing against Uryuu but after everything they had gone through together, losing that bond of friendship would _hurt_. The thought alone made his heart constrict.

Ichigo took out his phone and hesitated to push the number assigned to speed-dial Urahara Shouten. He knew the mad scientist would’ve checked in if he had any news but a little reassurance that he was still hard at work on fixing the conundrum would’ve been a relief. Ichigo also briefly considered calling Inoue to see if she might try ‘rejecting’ the age reversion but they had no way to be sure it wouldn’t make Uryuu even younger, or worse.

He tucked his phone away with a sigh and spotted his chibi roomie dashing across the park after an iridescent green dragonfly. An affectionate smile spread even as Ichigo’s stomach sank to realize there was a very real chance he might never see _his_ Ishida again.


	2. Chapter 2

“Ichigo nii-san! Wake up, Ichigo nii-san!”

“Huh?” he mumbled, blinking around his dim bedroom until his eyes found Uryuu’s alarmed visage. “Wha’s wrong?”

“I can feel a Hollow,” the boy urgently notified him, “a really, really strong one!”

Sitting up and trying to shake off the persistent shroud of sleep, Ichigo asked, “Sure it wasn’t a nightmare?”

“Of course I’m sure! Don’t you feel it?”

Generally, no. But he trusted that Uryuu wouldn’t lie about this and his ability to sense spirit signatures of any kind had always been miles above anyone else on the mortal plane, so Ichigo shut his eyes and concentrated on scoping out the town.

“ _Shit_ ,” he hissed when he felt it. The Hollow was one of the most powerful to pester Karakura in months. Flinging off the covers, Ichigo rushed to his desk and scrounged around in a drawer for the muffled bleating of his substitute’s badge as he instructed, “Go back to your room and stay there ‘til I get back. I’ll take care of this.”

“I can help, too,” Uryuu insisted, clenching his fists against the desire to prove it.

“I know you can but one Hollow won’t give me too much trouble. Trust me, I can handle it alone.” Badge found, Ichigo hesitated to use it when seeing him pop out of his mortal body could seriously traumatize anyone who wasn’t expecting it. “Just wait in your room, Uryuu.”

“But—”

“Please,” he pressed since time was of the essence here. “I’ll feel better knowing you’re safe, okay?”

His resolute stance deflated slightly as he dropped his gaze and reluctantly told Ichigo, “Okay.”

Uryuu turned to go without further debate. A twinge of remorse stung inside of Ichigo for basically undermining the little Quincy’s usefulness but he didn’t have a choice. There was no way he’d take the chance of letting Uryuu get hurt just to make him feel better. They could talk about it later if it bothered him that much.

The telltale roar of a hungry Hollow echoed through the town, goading Ichigo into action. He smacked the badge against his chest and let his body fall back to sprawl awkwardly across his mattress. A quick phase through the wall and he was flash-stepping to the source of that scream as fast as he could.

Turned out it wasn’t far away at all. Ichigo found it chasing the souls of what used to be an elderly couple he’d seen strolling around the neighborhood a few times. When they’d still been alive, anyway.

“Hey!” he shouted, dialing up his reiatsu output to catch its attention.

It worked. The Hollow halted and whipped around to zero in on the delicious ‘scent’ of a very unique hybrid. Ichigo drew his swords to have them ready but darted upward to lead the intruder away from the fragile people and structures below. It chased him eagerly, wordlessly howling its intention to make one hell of a satisfying meal out of him.

They met midair, clashing claws against steel, and Ichigo wasted no time going in for the kill. He wasn’t in the mood to play when the longer it took to get rid of the Hollow meant a greater risk for everyone and everything around them. Only problem was it didn’t seem to share his pragmatic outlook. It was fast, dodging and twisting and slashing in a frenzy. The bastard would’ve been culled in an instant if he released his bankai, but Ichigo had pretty much been forbidden by Kyouraku-soutaichou from using it on Earth, so shikai would have to do.

He hit another snag gearing up to fling a getsuga tenshou at it when he realized the blast wave could potentially spread to the neighborhood they were hovering above. His moment of indecision was not overlooked by the Hollow, which zoomed in to take a swipe at him from the side. Ichigo flash-stepped to safety and readied a close-range counterattack. They would just have to do this the traditional way—blades versus talons—until one of them was too shredded to move.

In the second before they launched themselves at each other, they were distracted by a bright flash of blue light. It hit the Hollow square in the chest but didn’t do much beyond pissing it off. Both combatants paused to identify none other than Uryuu poised on the roof of the apartment building with bow drawn and another energy arrow nocked. Ichigo cursed under his breath. Should’ve guessed the headstrong brat wouldn’t have kept himself huddled in safety while a friend rushed into danger.

Evidently deciding the Quincy was an easier dining option, the Hollow made a bee-line for the boy’s location.

Ichigo panicked, throwing one of his swords into its back and swooping in to block its path. The Hollow shrieked in rage, abandoning its new target to seek retribution against the first. Another glowing arrow pierced its thick hide but Uryuu lacked the reiryoku necessary to condense enough energy into his arrows for full effect. The Hollow was simply too strong of an opponent for a nine year-old, prodigy or not. Ichigo wanted to yell at him to go inside but he already knew it wouldn’t do any good. Even from there he recognized the exact same intent expression Ishida always got when he was dead-set on seeing something through to the very end.

Instead, he used the distraction Uryuu represented for the Hollow to his advantage. Ichigo unleashed more of his power in preparation for an all-out attack. He couldn’t afford to draw the fight out any longer. He would rather recklessly charge in than let the Hollow so much as scratch the kid he’d promised to protect. So, that’s precisely what he did.

Busy batting away an arrow aimed at its mask, the Hollow didn’t see him coming until Zangetsu was buried hilt-deep in its chest. Ichigo growled as he wrenched his sword straight up, slicing the Hollow in half from ribs to skull. He watched it dissipate with a fading wail and grabbed his other sword before it fell. Slinging both across his back for safekeeping, Ichigo sighed in relief and headed to the rooftop. Even if his intentions were good, what Uryuu had done _wasn’t_ and he needed to understand that in case of another random Hollow fight in the near future.

Landing soundlessly on the roof, Ichigo opened his mouth to deliver the vital lecture but one glance at the boy derailed his plan.

“Uryuu?” he called, hurrying closer to discover why he was shaking and panting so hard. As Ichigo approached, his spirit bow vanished and he collapsed to his knees. Kneeling in front of Uryuu, he worriedly asked, “What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”

“I-Ichi…”

That was all he managed before his eyes rolled back and his whole body went limp. Ichigo reached out to catch him but jerked his hands away when Uryuu cried out at his touch.

_Of course_ , Ichigo mentally chastised himself, _so fucking stupid_! It was his reiatsu: wild and unrestrained and weighing so heavily on Uryuu that he could barely breathe, much less explain what Ichigo should’ve realized on his own. Reining it in as hastily as possible, he studied Uryuu carefully for signs of damage to his soul. Withstanding the spiritual whiplash of Ichigo’s unreasonably abundant reiatsu was nothing for someone like Ishida, but for a kid just growing into his powers it was the shock of a lifetime. A soul with no power at all might have died outright.

“I’m so sorry, Uryuu,” he said once his reiatsu was down to minimum output again. “Are you all right?”

The first time he babysat for his sisters on his own, Ichigo remembered his dad telling him that if a minor accident occurred he shouldn’t ask them if they were all right. _Asking_ a child would make them assume they weren’t all right, whereas _telling_ would convince them they probably were. The theory seemed to apply this time, too, since Uryuu’s eyes promptly began welling with tears.

An instant later, Ichigo’s were matching. He felt like the world’s biggest asshole and he didn’t even know how to fix it. Was Uryuu terrified of him now? Did he want Ichigo to go far away from him? How was he supposed to make something like this okay again?

It took Uryuu a moment to try sitting upright. He was still quivering from the strain of fending off all that reiatsu but at least his breathing was starting to slow. He turned those large, watery eyes up at the scary Shinigami just as a tear slid down his cheek. Ichigo sucked in a sharp breath as his heart squeezed at the sight. God, he’d made the poor kid _cry_. He was a monster!

Then Uryuu clung tightly to the front of his shihakusho and buried his face against Ichigo’s chest.

“I-I-Ichigo…n-nii-san,” he sobbed, absolutely crushing him.

His arms enfolded Uryuu reflexively as he murmured, “It’s okay. We’re okay.”

One of Ichigo’s hands soothingly rubbed up and down his back while the other combed through silky black strands. He just wanted Uryuu to stop crying. He’d do anything to make him feel safe again, even if all it meant was holding him for a few minutes while he calmed down.

When the sobs eventually segued to sniffles, Ichigo risked a glance and almost smiled to see Uryuu take off his glasses and meticulously clean the smudges from rounded lenses. It came as no surprise that Ishida’s anal-retentive qualities hailed from very early on in his adolescence. When he slipped his glasses back on and noticed Ichigo’s attention on him, he wiped at his tear-streaked cheeks self-consciously.

Solemnly appraising him, Uryuu said, “I never knew Hollow could be so…”

“Most of them aren’t like that,” Ichigo assured. “Besides, the worst ones are usually handled by Shini—”

He tried to shut his big mouth before it was too late but Uryuu was exceptionally perceptive for his age. Based on his expression, the cat was undeniably out of the bag. His next question confirmed it.

“Are you a Shinigami?”

“Uh, sort of?” Cringing at the boy’s puzzled frown, Ichigo elaborated, “Yes and no. I’m a living human first but I’m also part Shinigami, part Quincy, and…” Might as well get it all out on the table, right? “Part Hollow. But I would never hurt you, Uryuu, and I’m so, _so_ sorry I scared you. Future-you is used to my reiatsu and I just forgot how overwhelming it can be for those who aren’t. I’ll be more careful from now on, I swear.”

Considering that for a beat, he finally replied, “I’m sorry, too, Ichigo nii-san. I should’ve stayed inside like you said.” Uryuu lowered his eyes shamefully to admit, “I had no idea I was so weak.”

Ichigo had to bite his lip to keep from tripping over himself to reassure him of how weak he _wasn’t_. Yet, the truth was Uryuu had no business battling Hollow at his age and he didn’t need to be persuaded otherwise when it could easily get him into worse trouble down the line.

A light touch to his chin raised his eyes to meet Ichigo’s. “You may not be ready for Hollow of that caliber but all you need is time and practice. Remember what I said about future-you being an awesome warrior?” Uryuu nodded but his frown didn’t budge. “Do you think you got that good without ever fighting anyone stronger than you?”

Interest piqued, the stormy cast to his features started to clear. “I never thought about it like that.”

“My mom used to tell me failure is the best way we learn sometimes.” Chuckling at the memory of his numerous beatdowns over the years—starting with Tatsuki in karate class—Ichigo said, “I know that better than anyone.”

“You’ve lost fights before?” Uryuu incredulously asked.

“So freakin’ many. Most of them, actually, but that’s a huge part of how I got strong in the first place.” While he boggled over the revelation, Ichigo continued, “Point is, you shouldn’t feel bad about having limits ‘cause you can just work hard and break past them. _Slowly_ , though. Don’t go throwing yourself at every mean Hollow you come across unless you’re pretty sure you can take ‘em out. And next time I ask you to stay put so I won’t have to worry about you, _stay put_. Okay?”

A small, sheepish smile emerged. “Okay.”

“Good. Now, let’s go make some tea so you can fall asleep before dawn.”

But Uryuu ended up passing out long before sunrise, even if he had to ask Ichigo to stay with him so he could. Having Kon’s lion plushie nestled in his arms probably helped, as well.

One of Uryuu’s hands was still clutching the sleeve of his shihakusho in spite of total unconsciousness. Ichigo gently pulled free and tucked the boy’s arm under the blanket. His empty body was waiting to reabsorb his soul in the other room but he couldn’t bring himself to go retrieve it just yet. He couldn’t drag his gaze from Uryuu’s sleeping face because it was becoming easier to see Ishida’s overlapping it. They really were so alike in the most unexpected ways.

That time Ichigo had struggled so relentlessly to master his Fullbring, only to have it suddenly stolen from him was one of the worst events of his life. He’d been too emotional to consider it in the moment but he remembered the look on Ishida’s face as he had been forced to watch his friend tumble head first into despair over the betrayal. It was more than mere sympathy for Ichigo’s pain. Ishida had felt his pain, too—had _shared_ _it_ like a burden only he could comprehend because he had also suffered through that loss.

They were two of a kind in the way that they had experienced both great power and utter helplessness in a relatively short period. Hearing Uryuu lament his lack of strength solidified this fact in his mind. In a certain sense, Ishida was the most resilient person he knew because he understood better than anyone how futile rebellion could be but he _always_ fought on regardless. Hell, having Ishida’s stubborn ass by his side in the battle against Ulquiorra was probably the key reason Ichigo had survived.

Bottom line: he didn’t give Ishida enough credit as a friend. It was simpler to think of him as the stuck-up nerd who loved to bitch at Ichigo over the most inane shit than view him as the loyal, intelligent ally that he really was underneath his snarky exterior. If he’d learned anything from Uryuu over the past three days, it was how icy his heart _wasn’t_ , no matter how many times Ishida had glared and called him an idiot to make him think otherwise.

Ichigo glanced at the laptop resting on Ishida’s desk. Lips thinning into a wry line, he debated taking another gander at his roomie’s private journal. If Ichigo wanted an honest account of the man’s perspective on their friendship, spying was likely his sole chance of getting it. He couldn’t even imagine what it might take to convince Ishida to open up and express his genuine feelings—and that was assuming Ichigo had the maturity to initiate such an inherently embarrassing conversation to begin with—so the odds were definitely not in his favor.

On the other hand, anything he learned from Ishida’s journal would have to remain a secret. If he ever realized Ichigo had violated his trust like that…No, on second thought it wasn’t worth the fallout.

Was it?

“This is my favorite part,” Uryuu said, eagerly scooting forward on the couch cushion with eyes glued on the TV screen. “When Goku transforms and suddenly he’s a _ton_ more powerful, then the bad guy doesn’t stand a chance!”

Hiding his smirk behind a fistful of popcorn, Ichigo couldn’t help finding it ironic that Uryuu’s favorite anime featured a character that basically released a Dragon Ball Z version of bankai after working super hard to gain the ability in a short amount of time. He didn’t even know how closely it mirrored their lives in that regard.

“Yeah, it’s pretty cool,” agreed Ichigo between his munching.

He almost choked when Uryuu turned to him and casually claimed, “You’re cooler, though.”

Coughing around a kernel lodged in his throat, he croaked, “Thanks.”

In the name of all that was bright and shiny, he’d pay so much yen to hear Ishida say ‘you’re cooler than Goku’ just once!

His phone rang during the commercial break. Ichigo wiped the artificial butter coating his hands onto ripped jeans and fished his cell from a pocket to answer the call. It was from Urahara.

“ _Good afternoon, Kurosaki-san! I hope you and your young charge are doing well_.”

“Yeah, great,” he grunted, immune to Urahara’s jovial influence. “What’s up?”

“ _I have good news: we’ve found a solution to Ishida-san’s predicament!_ ”

Ichigo stared blankly across the room for a moment as his insides writhed uncomfortably. “You serious?”

“ _Of course I am. Did you think I was goofing off all along? No, no, no. It just took me a while to track down the proper contacts for essential information. Namely, a branch of the Italian mafia based out of Japan, but I’m sure you don’t want to hear the boring details_.”

“What about the mafia?” Uryuu was giving him a baffled look that matched the way Ichigo felt about the non sequitur. “No, never mind. I don’t want to know. But are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

“ _Only if you think I’m saying it’s time to bring little Uryuu-kun back to the shop for a swap-out._ ”

Swallowing thickly, Ichigo’s eyes slid away from Uryuu’s to hear it confirmed. After five days of caring for the kid, he had to send him back in Ishida’s place. It astounded Ichigo how conflicted he felt about the prospect.

“I see. Thanks for letting me know.” Almost mechanically, he declared, “We’ll be right there,” and hung up without waiting for Urahara’s reply.

“Where are we going?”

“Um…Urahara Shouten. You remember the place, right? It’s where you were when he called me over to pick you up.”

“I remember,” he said as an apprehensive frown slid into place, “but why are we going back?”

The ten million yen question. Ichigo didn’t want to answer. He didn’t know _how_ to answer because he had an inkling Uryuu wasn’t going to be thrilled about it, either.

Maybe Ichigo was dead wrong and Uryuu couldn’t wait to get back home. His whole family was waiting for him in the past, after all, and he was probably getting sick of Ichigo anyway.

“I’ll explain later. Let’s just get ready to go for now.”

It was obvious Uryuu wanted to ask more questions but he got up to do as he was told. Ichigo was really going to miss not having to argue over every single thing. He was going to miss Uryuu more.

The walk over to Urahara Shouten felt like a gallows march. It was ridiculous, Ichigo knew, but he was simultaneously happy to get Ishida back and sad to see Uryuu go. He had just gotten along with the kid so easily! In retrospect, he completely understood how Urahara had grown fond of him so quickly because saying goodbye after less than a week of having him around was going to hurt like hell. If only there was a way to keep both of them in the present…

But in a sense, Ichigo _would_ be able to keep both of them because Uryuu was still in Ishida somewhere, deep down. Maybe if Ichigo was very lucky he could figure a way to draw out the best parts of Uryuu in Ishida and then—Good grief, he was losing his damned mind over this! He just needed to suck it up and be glad Urahara could bring Ishida back to his proper timeline at all.

That’s what he’d decided by the time they made it to the shop.

“Welcome, welcome,” the owner greeted and ushered them inside. “Step right over here, Uryuu-kun, and I’ll give you something nice to smell before you head home.”

“Home?” His gaze bounced between Urahara and Ichigo as alarm set in. “What’s he talking about, Ichigo nii-san?”

It took all the composure he could muster to evenly explain, “Urahara-san is sending you back to your time, your _family_. They’re probably worried since you’ve been gone so long.”

“But…but I don’t want to go yet,” Uryuu meekly told them with a pitiful look at Ichigo.

Swallowing to hear Uryuu say it so directly, he put a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “I know. I don’t want you to go, either, but your own timeline is where you belong. There’s still a lot for you to learn and experience so you can become the amazing guy I know you will be. You want that, too, right?”

“Yes, but…”

Ah, geez he was going to cry again. Ichigo was one hundred percent guaranteed to join him if he saw a single tear and he’d really rather not start bawling in front of Urahara, of all people.

He took a knee and said, “Don’t worry, Uryuu. You’ll see me again for sure and then we’ll spend lots of time together.”

“You swear?”

“Yeah, I swear.” Ichigo smiled as he watched Uryuu rub at an eye and fight to control his emotions. “In the meantime, focus on getting stronger so we can watch each other’s backs in battle, okay?”

Sniffling and nodding, he mumbled, “Okay.”

“And if your dad ever tries to say you’re no good as a Quincy, tell him to shut it ‘cause he’s dead wrong.” That got a weak smile and a snort of amusement. Then Ichigo grew somber as one more thing came to mind. “Most important of all, know that your mom and grandpa are proud of you.” He could practically feel Urahara’s tension when he added, “They always will be, no matter what.”

“Are you proud of me, too?”

What was left of Ichigo’s heart melted instantly. “Hell yes, I’m proud of you.”

He drew Uryuu into a firm hug that was readily returned. Ichigo realized he was probably going to cry whether or not Uryuu did but he hoped he could at least hold it back until after the kid was gone.

Right before they separated and Urahara stepped forward, he whispered, “I love you, Ichigo nii-san.”

He was struck speechless, frozen where he stood. It was just a thing children said all the time. They were free with their affections in ways adults rarely were but it didn’t carry as much weight for the same reason. Still, it stunned him how much hearing Uryuu say that simple phrase meant to him. And how much Ichigo wanted to say it back.

“Please step back, Kurosaki-san. I would hate to fix one problem and create another by sending you along with him.”

Reversing robotically, he kept his eyes on Uryuu until a puff of pale pink smoke enveloped him. The last thing he saw of the boy was his eyes staring forlornly back at Ichigo.

From inside the cotton candy cloud, he heard Uryuu start to comment, “This stuff kinda smells like—” A deeper, even more familiar voice finished, “—strawberries?”

The smoke began to clear and Ishida was left standing in his ten years younger self’s place.

Ichigo gave in to impulse without a spark of resistance and moved forward to greet his not-so-long lost friend with a welcoming hug. All right, if he was being honest it was more for his sake than Ishida’s but he couldn’t help himself. He stiffened in Ichigo’s arms but didn’t immediately reject the gesture, which was a surprise in and of itself.

“Glad to see you survived the past, Ishida,” he tried to joke but his tone was all wrong for humor.

“Kurosaki? What—” Twitching to hear Ichigo sniff against a fresh surge of sentiment, he dubiously asked, “Are you _crying_?”

Ishida pushed him off and gave him a crazy look for being so weird all of a sudden. He spotted Urahara loitering nearby, content to observe the scene from the sidelines until he was needed, and ignored Ichigo to address him instead.

“Urahara-san, thank goodness.”

“Welcome back, Ishida-san. I trust your stay in the previous decade was comfortable?”

“Not really. I spent the past five days avoiding everyone while trying to figure out how the hell I managed to time-travel in the middle of a grocery shopping trip.”

“Ah, yes. Prudent decision.”

“Why?” Ichigo asked, totally confused. “I thought you would’ve gone straight to the family you haven’t seen in years.”

“And risk creating a potentially devastating paradox?” he snidely countered. “One glimpse of me could’ve set them all spinning into a completely different series of events leading to an alternate universe. I wasn’t about to risk making my future worse when it has already come close to killing me several times over.”

Well, Ishida had a point there. Figured the sci-fi aficionado would’ve known exactly what to expect and how to avoid it, whereas none of that had occurred to Ichigo even once. Still, it sucked that Ishida hadn’t gotten to speak with his mother and grandfather in spite of them being within reach.

“In that case, I apologize for the delay,” Urahara diplomatically stated.

Shaking his head, Ishida said, “I’m just grateful you were able to reverse the process. Thank you.”

“Of course.”

“I hope my adolescent version wasn’t too much trouble for you.”

“Not at all,” he cheerfully disagreed, fluttering his fan for theatric flair. “I’m sure Kurosaki-san had no complaints.”

“What?” Ishida whirled around to glare at his roommate. “ _You_ took care of him all week?”

“Uh…yep.”

Slapping palm to forehead, he muttered, “Dear god, it’s a miracle he made it through intact.”

“Hey, I’m a great babysitter!”

“What did you tell him?”

That made Ichigo pause. “You don’t remember?”

With a roll of his eyes, Ishida explained, “Assuming this debacle hasn’t spawned a divergent timeline wholly independent from ours, all of it would have happened ten years ago over a period of only five short days—not to mention my mother died later that year, which tends to leave an impression on a child’s memory—So, no, Kurosaki. I don’t remember. Now, _what did you tell him_?”

“Will you relax? I didn’t say anything about Soul Society or Hueco Mundo or all that crap with Yhwach, so just chill.” He gave Ichigo a dark look but didn’t keep badgering him about it. “I didn’t even warn you about your sensei. Do you have any idea how hard that was?”

A stifling silence followed his frank question. Ishida broke eye contact to glare at the floor instead and Urahara pretended he wasn’t paying rapt attention to their argument.

“Whatever. The damage is done either way.”

He pivoted to stride toward the exit without another word.

Catching up to him outside, Ichigo asked, “Where are you going?”

“Home. I’m too tired to deal with this right now.”

That was understandable. Maybe he was suffering from some form of time-travel jet-lag. Or maybe it was the fact that he’d been ‘urban camping’ for days.

“You really didn’t see your family at all?”

Ishida sighed softly and tossed a sidelong glance at him. “Of course I saw them. But that’s all I did. I couldn’t risk letting them see me.”

“Hm,” Ichigo hummed noncommittally. “I wonder what they’ll think when Uryuu shows up talking about his trip to the future.”

He snapped his head up to stare. “What did you just call him?”

_Shit_. Subverting the urge to fidget, Ichigo pushed his hands into his pockets and defensively muttered, “That’s your name, isn’t it? What else was I supposed to call past-you? Besides, we’ve been friends more than five years already, so I should be able to call you ‘Uryuu’ if I want.”

“No,” he growled and started walking again, “you shouldn’t.”

At least Ishida hadn’t insisted they weren’t friends. He still liked to do that occasionally since he knew it drove Ichigo up the wall.

“What’s the point of having a cool name like ‘rain dragon’ if you never let anyone use it? Past-you never complained about it being too personal.” Cracking a smirk, he taunted Ishida, “Guess what you called me.”

“I don’t want to know,” he said, sounding as if he sincerely meant it.

“Aw, come on, it was really cute. Guess.”

“ _Cute_?” Making a face at the notion, he scowled and demanded, “Kurosaki, tell me you did not bond with him.”

“Oh, we totally bonded. You even said you loved me.”

Ishida stumbled—literally _stumbled_ —and gaped at him with this stricken expression that had Ichigo’s amusement drying right up, replaced with the beginnings of concern. He was about to ask what was probably a dumb question anyway when Ishida started yelling at him in the middle of the sidewalk for anyone to overhear.

“What the hell did you do to him, idiot Shinigami!?”

“Don’t say it like that,” he griped, trying to tune out the silent scrutiny from random passersby. “It’s not as if I’m into shota-con or anything creepy like that. We just talked about a lot of stuff and I guess I made a good impression on you or something.”

“Forgive me if I find that impossible to believe,” snarled Ishida, “seeing as we’ve been _friends_ for five years and all.”

“Here we go again,” Ichigo grumbled alongside a frustrated sigh. “I was wondering when you’d play the ‘frienemies’ card. We must be the only rivals in existence to voluntarily live together.”

“If I could afford to live alone, I would!”

“If you hated me that much you’d just stay in one of the dorms, so quit pretending you’d rather move out.” Before Ishida could deliver another withering retort, he threatened, “Keep throwing a fit over how well I got along with Uryuu and I might start thinking you’re jealous.”

His jaw dropped before he shrieked, “ _Jealous_? Of you becoming best pals with a nine year old? Are you insane!?”

“Let me ask you something, Ishida.” Eyes narrowing shrewdly, Ichigo studied him closely as he continued, “Why do you always act so tough when you’re really such a softie?”

Ishida punched him in the shoulder hard enough to knock him sideways a few steps. “How’s that for soft?”

Rubbing his rapidly bruising shoulder, Ichigo would not be deterred. “You’re like one of those cats who scratches everyone even though it secretly wants to be petted.”

Ishida punched him again, in the gut this time, and Ichigo wheezed while he launched into a fiery tirade. “You’re delusional if you think for one second that I secretly want _anything_ from you, and if you ever compare me to an animal again I won’t hesitate to shoot you point-blank with Ginrei Kojaku’s most powerful type of arrow. Am I making myself clear?”

He was, but not in the way he intended. What became clear to Ichigo was how desperately Ishida needed to maintain the pretense of apathy toward him. What still didn’t make sense was _why_. Part of him wished he had caved and read his roommate’s journal.

“Yeah.” Several minutes passed on the route home with neither of them electing to speak. Ichigo’s mind was spinning with curiosity and conjecture. Seeing Ishida again after all these strange questions had been raised, thanks to Uryuu, was putting crazy ideas in his head. One of which was, “Y’know, when past-you said he loved me…”

“Kurosaki, don’t.”

“I wanted to say it back.”

Ishida’s eyes flared before he tore them away from Ichigo’s. “That was just—”

“I still sorta do.”

He had absolutely nothing to say after that and neither did Ichigo. They didn’t know what to do with this thing between them but they couldn’t deny it was there.

It wasn’t that his feelings for Ishida had popped up out of nowhere, either. Ichigo had always liked the guy and considered him a close friend, so the possibility of taking it one step further wasn’t a giant leap. The trick would be figuring out whether Ishida felt the same without getting himself killed in the process.

“Hungry?” Ichigo asked once Ishida got back from changing after his shower. “I made donburi.”

His stomach answered for him, growling eagerly at the delicious aroma of pork and veggies served over rice. Ichigo chuckled quietly and handed him the bowl he’d already put together.

“Thanks,” murmured Ishida as he headed for the couch.

They ate dinner and watched TV together like they had done a hundred times before. It felt normal, except for the extra layer of expectation. Ichigo wasn’t sure what he was expecting exactly, just that he’d be majorly disappointed if the evening ended without something new happening. He had basically _confessed_ to Ishida, after all. Was it asking too much to get a response?

“I took more detailed notes than usual in class last week so you wouldn’t fall behind,” Ichigo mentioned conversationally. “But I bet you’re a couple weeks ahead in the coursework anyway.”

“I’d still like to borrow them.”

He nodded because he knew Ishida would say that. “I already put ‘em on your desk.”

“Thanks.”

Twice in one day, what a treat! Ichigo snorted at his own silly thoughts. His smile grew to see Ishida take both of their empty bowls into the kitchen for a quick wash; Uryuu had volunteered to help with cleanup more often than not, too. Ichigo understood how much maintaining orderliness soothed him. It was one of Ishida’s least annoying personality quirks. But Ichigo would’ve been lying if he said most of those quirks had stopped annoying him a long time ago.

When Ishida returned to his seat on the sofa, Ichigo casually said, “Thanks, Uryuu.”

So what if Ichigo was feeling a bit mischievous? Maybe he was just in a good mood for having his roomie back. Pestering Ishida was also the main way he knew to express affection. He bit back a fiendish smirk and braced for the irritated rant sure to follow.

“You’re welcome, Ichigo.”

Mouth falling open in shock, he gawked at Ishida’s nonchalant demeanor. Leaning against the armrest, he looked quite cozy with the side of his head propped on a loose fist and his legs crossed at the ankles. The punk even had the nerve to act unfazed when Ichigo blurted, “Wait, what?”

“I said ‘you’re welcome’.”

“But you…” Ishida tilted his head a fraction to look at him. Then he smiled and Ichigo _lost it_. “I like you. Really. I mean, a lot.”

His smile waned as he switched his focus back to the TV. “So you said.”

“That’s it? That’s all I get after working up the courage to confess?” A frown took the place of his former smile. “Uryuu—”

“You’re confused, Kurosaki.” Gaze dropping to fix somewhere on the floor, he sullenly claimed, “I’m not the ‘Uryuu’ you like. I haven’t been that tender-hearted child for a very long time.”

Ichigo scooted closer and leaned forward to intercept his line of sight. When their eyes met, he bluntly asserted, “You can be such a dumbass sometimes, you know that?”

“Said the pot to the kettle…”

“Yeah, I’m an even bigger dumbass. No one’s denying that. But even I’m not dumb enough to mistake the boy you used to be for the man you are now. All he did was make it easier to see what I should’ve recognized from the start.”

Straightening to face him seriously, Ishida demanded, “What am I even supposed to say to that?”

“Say that you like me back,” he replied as if it were the most obvious answer in the world. “You do, right?” When he held his silence and averted his gaze, Ichigo’s heart began thudding painfully against his ribs. “Do you?”

Had he interpreted everything wrong? Maybe Ishida actually considered him a close friend rather than a rival and that was all he’d been hiding. Ichigo could’ve been fooling himself all along thinking there was anything other than platonic feelings on Ishida’s end. There was no evidence that proved otherwise. Nothing but Ichigo’s optimism and the revelation of his own desire clouding better judgment.

He was about to start backpedaling hard when Ishida took a deep breath to say, “ _Yes_ , okay?” Rubbing at his forehead as if it hurt, he muttered, “I like you. But that doesn’t automatically mean we should become a couple.”

“Yeah, it does,” Ichigo argued, basking in the glow of relief and joy. “That’s exactly what it means.”

“I knew you would say that,” mourned Ishida in a resigned cadence.

“See? The fact that we know each other so well makes it easy to tell we’d be good together.” Remaining unconvinced, he nonetheless kept his full attention on Ichigo as though hoping he could be. “Listen, we already live together. We hang out all the time. All that would really change about our relationship if we dated is…”

According to the faint flush on Ishida’s face, he didn’t need to say it.

Ichigo wanted him. He wanted to hold Ishida, feel his warmth and hear his voice. He wanted to fall asleep in the same bed and wake up together in the morning. He wanted the freedom to touch and explore and memorize. He wanted to press their mouths together until their temperatures rose and their breathing quickened. He wanted to watch Ishida unravel, little by little, as Ichigo expressed his love in a series of sensual movements.

Before jumping into all of that, maybe it was safer to start with a kiss.

He slowly eased closer, gaze flicking indecisively between Ishida’s eyes and mouth. Ichigo gave him plenty of time to work out what was coming and object if he was against it. Fortunately, Ishida didn’t shove him back or get up to leave. He stayed right where he was, abnormally still, and struggled to keep his breathing steady as he waited for Ichigo to make his move.

They held the kiss for several seconds, then separated to stare at each other after.

“Did you feel—”

“Sparks,” Ichigo breathlessly declared. “Lots of sparks. You?”

Ishida nodded shyly, and the simple gesture reminded him so strongly of Uryuu that his chest swelled with hope.

The span of ceiling above Ichigo’s bed appeared riveting as it provided the backdrop to his mind theater. It was getting late and he had class in the morning but he didn’t care. He couldn’t stop daydreaming about that kiss with Ishida earlier and how he hadn’t wanted to stop with just one. At the same time, Ichigo was thrilled he’d gotten one at all. It was enough to know Ishida felt the same way about him; the rest would come later.

A quiet knock at the door disrupted his musings. Ichigo sat up as he called, “Come in.”

Ishida walked inside, closing the door behind him, and stood awkwardly on the far side of the room. He wasn’t wearing his glasses, which probably meant he’d just been in bed, too. Was he having trouble falling asleep for the same reason as Ichigo?

“I didn’t wake you, did I?”

“Nah.”

“Can’t sleep?” He shook his head and Ishida admitted, “Me neither.”

Nerves and anticipation warred inside of Ichigo, making his pulse speed. “Wanna talk about it?”

“Not really.”

“Oh,” he said, a little crestfallen. “Okay…” Then why was Ishida in his room?

The answer became a bit clearer when he moved to sit beside Ichigo on the bed, pausing for only a second before leaning in to kiss him. It was just as chaste and brief as their first but it still summoned a surge of warmth throughout his whole body. Ishida withdrew to gauge his reaction, like it could’ve been anything other than positive.

“Is this all right?”

A surprised laugh escaped before Ichigo could contain it. “Are you kidding?”

“No,” he replied seriously, a hurt look shining in his eyes.

“Oh, god,” Ichigo said and grabbed his hand in mild panic, “Ishida, I didn’t mean it like that! Of course this is all right. Whatever you’re comfortable with is totally fine. But, just so you know, I’d be up for anything.”

Considering that for a moment, he hesitantly asked, “Have you…done this sort of thing before?”

“Nope. You?”

“Obviously not.”

“Good.” Smiling despite his skeptical expression, Ichigo reasoned, “We can figure it out together.”

Although Ishida still seemed doubtful, Ichigo’s optimism was contagious. He squeezed Ishida’s hand reassuringly and was elated to see a small smile break out.

“Scoot over, Ichigo.”

Suddenly, there were too many reasons to be excited since Ishida was using his given name and crawling under the covers with him. Ichigo would’ve been thrilled to just sleep in the same bed together. It sounded like a great starting point for working up to more intimate interactions. Yet, part of him still wished Ishida wanted to take things a tiny bit faster than that.

Ichigo reminded himself that he needed to be patient. They had only exchanged confessions a few hours ago! And while he may have been the impulsive type, Ishida was the opposite. He had to think everything through, checking and double-checking until he was sure his next step was the right one. Starting a relationship would most likely follow the same cautious pattern, and there was nothing wrong with going slow.

“Do you have enough blanket on your side?” Ichigo asked because it was only twin-sized.

Ishida didn’t respond but moved close enough to share heat between the sheets. He was lying on his side and Ichigo got the impression he should’ve been, too. Rolling to face him, the first thing he noticed was how perfect Ishida looked in his bed. It was like he _belonged_ there. Ichigo stared into dark blue eyes and silently sighed with contentment.

“Anything, huh?”

“Yeah,” he agreed with a soft laugh. Only because it was Ishida, and because Ichigo knew he wouldn’t try anything too wild right off the bat. “As long as you let me call you ‘Uryuu’ while we’re doing it.”

Ichigo winced at the latter phrase. He hadn’t meant it like _that_ and he didn’t want Ishida getting the wrong idea—unless it was actually the right idea. Still, better safe than sorry. Ichigo took a quick breath to address any misunderstanding but Ishida’s mouth got in the way.

He kissed Ichigo timidly, then a little more assertively, as if gaining confidence from experience. Ishida’s hand found his under the covers and smoothly interlaced their fingers. It all felt so cozy and nice Ichigo kind of wanted to stay that way until they both eventually passed out in the middle of the night.

The only problem was every kiss made his blood heat that much more. There was a restless stirring low in his stomach urging him to keep getting closer to Ishida. Closer, _closer_ , and Ichigo didn’t realize he was actually doing it until Ishida broke the kiss with a soft gasp. One of Ichigo’s thighs had nudged in between his, introducing itself to a steadily stiffening part of Ishida’s anatomy. Ichigo started to withdraw, an apology half-uttered, but the pressure of Ishida’s legs around his kept it trapped.

“Stay,” he invited and kissed Ichigo again.

Ishida brought the hand he held to his waist and left it there for Ichigo to figure out what he should do with it. In the meantime, Ishida slid his down the front of Ichigo’s chest and—even though his stupid shirt was in the way—it made that warmth in his belly flare up and spread out. He gripped Ishida’s waist like the handlebars of a roller coaster because the thrill and adrenaline Ichigo felt from just that touch were disorienting in almost exactly the same way.

Then Ishida’s palm pressed, hot and firm, against the outline of what was shaping up to be his hardest hard-on ever and it was Ichigo’s turn to break the kiss so he could gasp about it.

“ _Uryuu_.”

“Am I really the one doing this to you?” Ishida asked and gave the faintest little squeeze for emphasis. “Sure you’re not thinking of anyone else?”

His voice had gone embarrassingly hoarse when he rallied enough from the shock to earnestly reply, “Trust me, you are the _only_ thing on my mind right now.”

That seemed to satisfy his remaining doubts, since he switched from pressing to lightly rubbing. Ichigo bit his lip and tried not to squirm like his hips wanted to do. It was so amazing and so frustrating at the same time that all he could do was breathe through it. He wanted to beg. Whether Ishida chose to stop or go further was irrelevant. Ichigo simply knew he couldn’t stand it much longer if he hoped to sustain a shred of sanity after tonight.

“I’ve liked you for a long time, Ichigo.” Forcing his eyes open to meet Ishida’s, he was sort of dumbstruck by the naked hunger behind them. “I’ve watched you. Wanted you. Thought about you so many times and I just…”

His hand mercifully stilled and fell away, granting Ichigo a modicum of sense as he considered what Ishida was telling him. The conflict in his expression was clear; he was warring with himself, wanting to simultaneously hold back and rush forward. Ichigo couldn’t blame him for having reservations but he needed them to be gone. So, he let go of Ishida’s waist and caressed the side of his face instead. It felt weird doing something so tender to another guy but Ichigo knew it was okay by the way blue eyes fluttered shut alongside a soft sigh.

“I missed you so much while you weren’t here,” he confessed when Ishida looked at him again. “Even though I loved having past-you around, I couldn’t stop thinking about you. Everything he said or did reminded me of you.”

“Well, he _was_ me,” reasoned Ishida, going for levity rather than snark for a change. “Of course he’d remind you of me.”

Ichigo smiled but refused to let him make light of it. “I think I’ve liked you for a long time, too. There were days I’d look at you or hear your voice or read one of your texts and feel crazy happy for no damn reason at all. That’s probably why I made you move in with me in the first place. And why I turned Inoue down right after graduation…”

Glancing away uncomfortably, it took Ishida a minute to admit, “I hated how glad I was to hear about that, despite being so sure I didn’t have a chance with you.”

Which was why he’d never confessed, Ichigo gleaned from the subtext.

He combed his fingers through smooth black hair and wistfully said, “I wish I’d noticed this sooner because the way I feel right now…” A gentle kiss conveyed the rest. That was all it was meant to be but he found himself getting quickly carried away until their breathing began to pick up again. He tore his lips away to promise, “We don’t have to rush this, Uryuu. If you want to wait until the third date—or the fifth, or the tenth—I won’t mind as long as you stay with me.”

“Ten dates?” he challenged with a dubious eyebrow.

“Twenty,” Ichigo negotiated, and grinned when it got a hushed laugh. “Fifty, even, but fifty-one is too much.”

Shaking his head, Ishida affectionately declared, “You are ridiculous.”

“Okay, maybe fifty-one but fifty-two is definitely my limit.”

His hand curved around the back of Ichigo’s neck as he showed him that hungry stare from earlier and huskily warned, “I’m already at my limit,” before kissing him fiercely.

Seconds into it, Ishida’s tongue found his. The sensation alone triggered a moan that had Ichigo’s ears turning red to hear the urgency in his own tone. But he couldn’t care too much about sounding so desperate when just the thought of Ishida wanting to taste him made his skin tingle all over. Ichigo slowly stroked up and down the length of his back, trying not to think about how close their hips were and how easy it would be to push them even closer.

It turned out Ishida was having a similar notion with the opposite resolution. He rolled his spine in a way that Ichigo never would’ve expected from him, all sinuous and sultry. The movement brought their lower halves flush together with the added bonus of delightful friction that felt so good they groaned into each other’s mouths. His hand slipped right under Ishida’s shirt without a conscious decision from him and went exploring. Ichigo could feel little goosebumps rising wherever his fingertips grazed hot skin.

The approval he heard reflected in Ishida’s hastened breaths was a type of praise he’d never known. It lent him the courage to reach down and appreciate the supple swell of Ishida’s ass through the thin material of his pajama bottoms. The bold touch sparked another one of those limber undulations and more of that white-hot pleasure between shifting hips. Their kiss became messier for it, but also more intense.

Too intense, Ichigo decided when he felt a telltale tug deep inside that told him he was about to come if they kept it up.

He reluctantly parted mouths to shakily say, “Uryuu, I’m…” His sheepish look said what he couldn’t.

Ishida kissed him slightly off-center and murmured, “Hips, hands, or lips? Your choice.”

“Oh, god,” Ichigo groaned because the way he had casually listed options for getting off was dangerously sexy. ‘Words’ should’ve been on that list! “Um,” he tried after a brief moment of consideration, “hands?”

Selection made, Ishida promptly pushed his shirt up and his pants down, then licked his palm and wrapped it around Ichigo’s exposed erection like it was all a very straightforward formula and not remotely awkward or mortifying to jerk another guy off for the first time. The last thought he had before his entire brain flooded with euphoria was that Ishida really hadn’t been kidding when he said he’d thought about being with Ichigo like this.

“That good?” Ishida asked when he shuddered and moaned from the first few strokes.

Ichigo wanted to communicate something in the affirmative but he couldn’t gather enough coherence to give a shallow nod, much less manage speech. He wanted to kiss Ishida and he didn’t because air was a thing he needed to stay conscious. Especially when a thumb dragged over the tip and Ichigo started gasping as his abs clenched. Ishida knew, he had to since his grip tightened and his pace doubled at the last second.

Although he tried to bite it back, a noise alarmingly akin to a whine slipped out as Ichigo tensed and came harder than he ever had in his entire life.

Ishida made a new sound, too, but his resembled a ravenous growl more than anything. He kissed Ichigo like the taste of him was the only thing that could possibly sate his appetite. Again, he couldn’t help musing over the fact that he’d never guess Ishida had such an erotic side to him but he sure as hell wasn’t going to complain. Not when he had an incredible sexual favor to repay immediately.

“Lie back?” he requested because he wanted the best view for this.

Not bothering to fix his own mussed clothes, he moved to straddle Ishida and put his PJs in the same state of disarray. Ichigo’s pulse began pounding all over again at the sight of him so eager and aroused. He lifted a hand with the intention of giving it a lick like Ishida had done, but a grip at his wrist stopped him.

“Use your come?” was the quiet suggestion that just about destroyed Ichigo’s tenuous composure. Ishida was blushing about it in retrospect but he wasn’t taking it back, so Ichigo readily obliged.

The instant slick fingers enclosed rigid flesh, Ishida gasped and arched into it like he’d never known relief until that moment. Maybe he hadn’t. Ichigo couldn’t guess how long he’d been holding a torch and it would be super strange asking something like that. All he had to go on was the way Ishida curled fists into the sheets and tilted his head back on a stilted moan. _Damn_ , he was already so close! Ichigo resisted the urge to selfishly draw it out because he didn’t want this to be over yet. Instead, he gave Ishida what he wanted—what he _needed_ so bad he had bravely overcome the shame of indulging a little dirty talk to get it.

Ichigo kissed him right before he came. The flushed circle of his parted lips was just too enticing to pass up. Ishida didn’t seem to mind even if he couldn’t put much into returning it with so much of his attention on the bliss brought on by Ichigo’s continued stroking. The broken way Ishida moaned as his whole body went lax was something he never wanted to forget.

“Sorry I’m such an idiot,” Ichigo said as he trailed delicate little kisses up and down Ishida’s throat on both sides. “Sorry you had to wait so long. Sorry you were suffering. I wanna make it up to you, Uryuu. I—”

“Ichigo,” he interrupted and leaned up to sweetly kiss his cheek before whispering into his ear, “you already have.”


End file.
